Me, Myself and Ike

After I wished a stranger a happy 59th birthday and gave her a hug, I couldn’t help but laugh. There we were, approximately 3,000 of the 5,600 registrants, standing in hurricane aftermath waiting to complete either a half or full marathon. All of our moisture-wicking clothes were drenched head to toe, and ponchos were blowing in every direction. Shelter was being sought next to buses, underneath tents, and behind porta-potty doors. What were we thinking?!

Earlier that morning as I was eating a banana and watching tree limbs whip around in the darkness like swords behind sheets of rain, I was thinking that this event surely had to be canceled. The Internet said otherwise. Rain or Shine was communicated loud and clear. So, I did what anyone would do; I geared up my ark with all the essentials (Mizuno, Smart Wool, Under Armour and North Face) and headed out the door still questioning my intentions.

As I stepped out of the car into a river of water, I was glad to see that the race hadn’t started yet. The traffic heading into the event was backed up for, what seemed like, miles. The headlights in the morning darkness easily resembled the scene in Field of Dreams. Initially I was shocked at the number of people dedicated to this event, but soon after was relieved that there were so many others willing to go the distance no matter the circumstances. The line between sanity and insanity was, indeed, very fine.

The energy level in the human corral only continued to grow as the minutes passed. So when the announcer started the clock, people were ready to express their excitement. In honor of this excitement and my stubbornness, I tried running. The adrenaline seemed to keep the knee pain at bay for at least a quarter of a mile. Once it surfaced, however, I laughed at my stupidity and started walking with pride. And that is when I met Gina and Shelly.

Together we shared stories, dodged rain bullets, laughed at the blown-down mile markers, and thanked our volunteers. We pondered what we’d do if our porta-potty blew over, as we passed one that was horizontal, and we vocalized life lessons. A quarter of a mile before the race ended at 10.something miles due to flooding, we passed a sign that said, “Beer Near.” In true Show-Me state fashion, a man approached us with cups of this liquid delight. Beer on a race route?! Together we cheered our successes, as athletes and as people.

As we crossed the finish line, we grabbed each others’ hands and raised them over our heads. It was, without a doubt, the perfect experience. Six months ago, I thought I would have completed a marathon on this day. Turns out, instead, I covered more ground in this journey we call life.